


you've always known you're not alone

by sterekfluffer (teampancakes)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Cats, Colour Theory, Cuddling, Declarations Of Love, Derek is sick, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Cream, Kissing, M/M, Neighbors, Picnic, Saying I Love You, Serial Killer, Sharing Clothes, Slow Dancing, Stiles' Birthday, Taking Pain, Thunderstorms, a daughter to be more precise, choosing paint color together, early morning rituals, giftfic, proposal, red underwear, sheriff walks in, stiles is about to propose, stiles is sick, stiles loves cats, suspicious stiles, they have a kid, watching shows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 9,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4665597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teampancakes/pseuds/sterekfluffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Uh, Stiles?’ Derek calls out in a confused voice. Stiles’ head snaps up from his book and he gulps. Damn it, Derek’s found the cats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. birthdays and picnics

**Author's Note:**

> For gri-clover's birthday :)

It’s 8 pm and it’s official that Derek has totally forgotten about Stiles’ birthday. There was no whispered greeting in the morning, no lazy birthday sex, not even birthday kisses. He made pancakes for breakfast but they were a box mix, not from scratch. There was no phone call in his lunch break, no surprise lunch date, nothing. The only thing he got was a text asking what he wanted Derek to pick up for dinner on his way back home.

Stiles scowls at the text and throws his phone on the passenger seat without replying. He doesn’t feel like going home, not just yet. It’s the first time ever that Derek has forgotten an important date and it’s not like him at all but it feels horrible, especially since Stiles had been looking forward to a day of pampering and love after all the terrible days he had had at work that week. Instead he got a usual, ordinary day without any presents or even acknowledgement that it was his special day.

_He can eat his stupid takeout on his own,_  Stiles thinks savagely as he drives down the road that leads to Preserve. There’s a spot there, in between the first bunch of trees, hidden from anyone walking down the road and Stiles likes to go there to think and be alone sometimes. His throat closes a little when he thinks about how he hasn’t been there in years, has never needed it, but he drives on determinedly.

He parks the jeep near the edge of the Preserve and gets out, walking towards the rough fence that separates the forest from the town. There’s a weak spot a little way up the road and he ducks through it, the wood splinters catching on his suit jacket, but he doesn’t really care.

It’s dark in the forests but he can see something glittering through the trees. He frowns, slowing down slightly. The light is too dim to be a fire but it’s scattered and close to the ground. It becomes clear what it is, however, when he turns a corner at the edge of his secret clearing. He gasps, staring at the hundreds of mason jars, filled with candles, burning merrily. In the middle of the clearing is a picnic blanket set out with pizza and curly fries and coke and beer and Stiles feels a grin tug at his mouth when he sees Derek sitting on the rock he usually does all his thinking on.

Derek’s suit jacket is lying beside him and his shirt is open at the collar. His eyes glow in the light of all the candles and he gets up with a nervous smile when he sees Stiles appear at the edge of the clearing.

‘Hi,’ he whispers, stepping up to Stiles and taking his hand.

‘I thought you’d forgotten,’ Stiles breathes, his eyes bright as they glanced about the clearing.

‘How could I?’ Derek replies, giving his hand a soft squeeze. That’s when Stiles turns to him and throws both his arms around his neck and buries his face in Derek’s shoulder. Derek lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in and brings his arms around his husband’s waist, kissing the top of his head.

‘Do you like it?’ he asks and then frowns when he feels Stiles’ body shaking a little in his embrace. ‘Hey, hey, what’s wrong?’ he asks, anxiety creeping into his voice. He pulls away and holds him at arm’s length, tipping his chin up with a finger. ‘Why are you crying?’ he asks wildly, heart beating loud and fast.

‘I’m not,’ Stiles hiccups and laughs through his tears. ‘I’m just so happy,’ he sobs and looks embarrassed as he hiccups again.

‘Hey, it’s okay, I love you,’ Derek murmurs, wiping at his cheek with both his thumbs and then pulling him close for a kiss. ‘I love you,’ he repeats against his mouth, feeling Stiles smile wider.

‘I know, idiot, I love you too,’ Stiles says, his voice hitching only a little now. ‘It’s just that I’ve been having a couple of really bad days and then when it looked like you forgot, I just, you know,’ he pushes at Derek playfully and grins.

‘I’m sorry,’ Derek says apologetically. ‘I wanted today to be special but I guess I kinda ruined it.’

‘Oh no,’ Stiles shakes his head as he leads him by the hand to the picnic blanket. ‘Anything that ends in curly fries and sex on a blanket outdoors is awesome in my book. I’m assuming the night will end with sex on this blanket?’ he turns back, an eyebrow raised in question.

‘Of course,’ Derek grins, giving Stiles’ butt a squeeze, as if to confirm.

‘Then today is the perfect birthday ever,’ Stiles announces happily, pulling Derek in for a kiss.   


	2. early morning sex and sharing clothes

‘I’m late,’ Derek protests weakly, his hands on Stiles’ shoulders as Stiles mouthed at his neck, licking and nipping, taking his ear lobe between his teeth and pulling gently, making Derek’s knees give out. He collapses against the couch and Stiles grins wickedly, pulling at his tie and stepping forward so that he’s straddling Derek.

‘It’s 7.40 am,’ he whispers, pressing hot lips against Derek’s and moaning softly in the back of his throat at the feel of his stubble against his chin and cheek. ‘You’re not  _that_  late,’ he mouths against Derek’s collar bone, grinding down in his lap and smirking.

‘Seriously Stiles,’ Derek protests, pushing him back gently, his mouth drooping. ‘As much as I love early morning sex and sex in our suits, we really need to leave the house if we want to be on work at time.’

Stiles pouts, his hands resting against Derek’s chest.

‘You know how Lydia gets when her second in command reaches the office after her, right?’ Derek quirks an eyebrow and Stiles finally sighs and rolls his eyes.

‘You’re right. She does go rather nuclear,’ he admits, sliding off Derek’s lap and running a hand through his hair so that it sticks up all over the place. Derek’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows and reminds himself that he’s really late.

‘Hot sex tonight?’ Stiles flashes him a grin as he bends over, picking up his jeans from the floor. ‘Sure,’ he winks and Derek stands up and nods, all business-like, making Stiles laugh out loud.

‘Can I borrow a shirt?’ he whispers in Derek’s ear, pressing close. ‘I can’t seem to find mine,’ he knew how much of a turn-on it was to Derek for Stiles to wear his clothes. Derek gulps and points at the shirt flung over the chair.

‘Thanks,’ Stiles kisses his cheek and goes to get it. Derek growls low in his throat as he pulls Stiles back by his waist and presses a bruising kiss to his mouth.

‘You’re evil, I hope you know that,’ Derek complains as they pull back.

‘Maybe you should punish me tonight then,’ Stiles winks, leaving Derek breathless and speechless.


	3. neighbors and serial killers

‘I’m telling you,’ Stiles points with his fork at the kitchen window from which they can see their neighbor’s window. Derek sighs patiently.

‘Stiles, our new neighbor is not a serial killer, okay?’ Derek repeats for the fiftieth time, probably, that week. He swirls spaghetti over his own fork and takes a bite.

‘But Derek!’ Stiles exclaims, gesturing wilding and dripping tomato sauce all over their kitchen table. ‘I swear, he’s got that vibe and his kitchen window has drapes. His  _kitchen_ window,’ Stiles echoes incredulously. ‘Who puts drapes in their  _kitchen_?’

‘I’m sure plenty do,’ Derek tells him, gently lowering Stiles’ hand that held his fork, back towards his plate. ‘Now eat, damn it, your food’s going cold.’

Stiles takes a bite, still looking suspiciously through the window. ‘I’ll just have to prove it to you,’ he mutters.

*

‘I’m home,’ Derek calls out, but there’s no answer. He loosens his tie, drops his briefcase on the couch and calls out again.

‘In here,’ comes Stiles’ whisper from the kitchen.

‘What the hell, Stiles,’ Derek whispers back, shaking his head at Stiles, silhouetted against the window in the dark kitchen.

‘Look!’ Stiles says urgently in a low voice, beckoning him over. Derek sighs and walks over, bending a little to peer at the neighbor’s window.

‘What?’ he asks, confusedly, seeing nothing but the usual drapes.

‘He was in there and he had a knife with blood all over it,’ Stiles says, his eyes wide. ‘You missed it by seconds.’

Derek stares at him, then back at the window.

‘Stiles I just saw the guy pet a kitten on the stairs today. I doubt he is the serial killer you think he is,’ Derek says exasperatedly.

‘But he had a knife!’ Stiles exclaims. ‘With blood all over it!’

‘I’m sure there’s an explanation for it,’ Derek shrugs after looking stumped for a minute. Stiles stares at him incredulously and then shakes his head.

‘I’m making him a pie and taking it over today,’ he says, reaching for his recipe book and cracking it open. Derek looks at him in amusement.

‘And what will that do?’

‘If I’m in his apartment, I can probably figure out for sure if he’s a serial killer or not,’ Stiles says. ‘Duh.’

*

‘Derek,’ Stiles whines, nudging his boyfriend’s knee and pouting. ‘Get up.’

‘Ughh, I was having such a good dream,’ Derek rubs at his eyes sleepily and peers at Stiles. ‘Uh, why are you holding a pie in a glass dish over my head?’

‘Come with me,’ Stiles says, setting the pie down on their dresser and sinking next to Derek on the bed.

‘But I’m sleepy,’ Derek protests. ‘And it’s just a pie thing, why do you need me?’

‘Because he’s a serial killer and what if he kills me and the last thing you said to me was that?’ Stiles pokes him in the chest till he sits up.

‘Okay, okay,’ Derek agrees, yawning. ‘Fine, I’ll come and protect you from the scary dude who pets kittens.’

‘And owns huge knives with blood on them!’

*

‘Um, hi,’ Stiles says when their blond, curly haired neighbor opens his door. Up close, he has doe-eyes and a face more innocent than Derek has ever seen (and he’s a lawyer and a great judge of character so he’d know).

‘Hey,’ the neighbor returns and slips open the chain to let them in. Derek nods at him as he walks past and Stiles pokes him in the side hard to make him notice the knife he’s holding. Derek raises an eyebrow and stares because Stiles was right, the knife does have quite a lot of blood on it.

‘We live next door,’ Stiles offers up the pie and smiles. The neighbor takes the dish in his knife-free hand and smiles. He does not look like a serial killer at all. He just has a knife. A very big one.

‘Hi, I’m Isaac,’ he says, walking towards the kitchen. ‘Thanks for the pie,’ he throws over his shoulder. ‘I was just in the middle of making a roast,’ he waves around his knife and Stiles steps a little to the right so that the kitchen is in full view: there’s a dead chicken on the counter, half plucked.

‘Uh,’ he mumbles, not looking at Derek.

‘We’re Derek and Stiles,’ Derek picks up the conversation, offering Isaac a hand to shake and grinning back at Stiles. ‘My boyfriend here thought you were a serial killer,’ he adds mischievously.

‘Derek!’ Stiles whispers, looking mortified. Isaac laughs out loud, placing the bloody knife on the counter next to the chicken.

‘That’s hilarious,’ he snorts, wiping at his eyes. ‘Sorry, man, I’m just really big on healthy, organic stuff. I don’t buy meat from supermarkets.’

‘See? I told you,’ Derek says to Stiles, his eyes twinkling.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Stiles blushes, wringing his hands. Isaac shakes his head.

‘Dude, it’s okay. Stay for dinner?’

‘Uh, yeah sure,’ Stiles accepts, nodding.

‘As long as you don’t serve us human body parts,’ Derek quips, earning himself a glare from Stiles and another laugh from Isaac.


	4. sheriffs and compromising positions

‘He’s gonna be here in ten minutes, Derek!’ Stiles exclaims when he spots Derek still lounging on the sofa, wearing just his boxer briefs. ‘For god’s sake, put on some clothes.’

‘Mm,’ Derek hums, idly scratching at his belly and flipping over the page of the stupid car magazine he was reading. ‘There’s still time, Stiles,’ he says lazily, looking at him with sleep-droopy eyes.

Stiles bites his lip and shifts uncomfortably, running his hand through his hair. ‘You know my dad is never late, right?’ He asks, fingering the edge of his cuffs.

‘Mm,’ Derek agrees.

‘Just get up and change. It’ll take you barely two seconds.’

‘Mm.’

‘Eight minutes, Derek!’

‘Eight is enough. You just said I could do it in two seconds.’

‘Okay,’ Stiles paces the floor in front of the sofa. ‘Okay,’ he repeats, coming to a stop. ‘I’ll blow you if you agree to change right now.’

Derek looks up from his magazine again, raising an eyebrow in consideration.

‘Okay, but first you blow me and then I’ll change,’ he negotiates.

‘Nope,’ Stiles says, crossing his arms and glaring down at his boyfriend. ‘Change first, blow later.’

‘But think about it,’ Derek starts, putting his magazine on the coffee table and stretching his arms above his head. ‘If you make me change first and then give me a blow job, your dad is more likely to walk in on us in a more compromising position than this,’ and he gestures to his naked torso, winking.

Stiles frowns in defeat, because Derek’s logic totally makes sense and it’s not fair. ‘Okay,’ he sighs, ‘Okay, I’ll blow you first but then you’ll be too boneless to go change!’

‘Oops?’ Derek offers, giving him another sleepy and adorable grin.

‘Derek, seriously. Just go change,’ Stiles says in exasperation. ‘We can have super hot and dirty sex tonight to make up for the lack of a blow job right now.’

‘When you put it that way…’ Derek trails off, pushing himself to his feet and leaning forwards to mouth at Stiles’ ear, licking the shell gently and biting down on the lobe, making the younger man bite back a moan.

‘Um,’ comes a voice from the doorway and Stiles pushes Derek back as if burnt, turning to see the Sheriff standing five feet away, looking embarrassed.

‘Dad!’ Stiles squeaks, frozen to the spot, not knowing if he should move forward and hug him or stay where he was.

‘Son,’ the Sheriff replies. ‘Derek,’ he nods at Derek.

‘Um, I was just gonna go – uh, change,’ Derek stammers, looking red. Stiles gives him a little push towards the bedroom and smiles nervously at his dad. He’s twenty-eight years old, damnit and his dad still makes him feel like a teenager.

‘So, that was – uh,’ Stiles begins.

‘No need to explain,’ the Sheriff puts up a hand and shakes his head. ‘I’m sure I don’t want to know,’ he chuckles. ‘I’m glad to see you’re happy though,’ he says quietly, smiling at Stiles who is looking in the direction of the bedroom with a dopey grin on his face.

‘Yeah, I’m very happy,’ Stiles agrees, smiling back at his dad and finally stepping forward for that hug. ‘Derek is amazing.’ He whispers in the crook of his dad’s neck and squeezes tightly. ‘Don’t tell him but I’m thinking of proposing later this week,’ he murmurs, pulling back and looking at his dad with bright eyes.

‘Oh, Stiles,’ the Sheriff says, his face proud. He’s grinning so hard, his eyes go all crinkly and Stiles giggles. ‘Don’t tell him though,’ he warns.

The Sheriff shakes his head, pulling him in for another hug. ‘I’d never.’


	5. groceries and condoms

‘No, Derek, we do not need store bought pizza sauce,’ Stiles sighs down the phone and balances it between his shoulder and cheek, so that his hands are free to type.

‘But it’s on sale,’ Derek says. ‘And it looks really good.’ He adds in a tiny voice.

‘But, Derek, I know how to make pizza sauce from scratch,’ Stiles says. ‘You don’t need to get the store bought one, okay? Put it back on the shelf and continue down the aisle.’

‘Okay,’ Derek says with a sigh.

‘Now, was that all or do you need me for something else too?’

‘Um, you could tell me what kind of cheese we buy? It just says cheese on the list,’ Derek asks. ‘Whoa, this entire aisle is full of cheese.’

‘That’s because cheese is a very important commodity in this world, you idiot. Just grab any brand of cheddar and mozzarella, no need to be fancy about it,’ Stiles replies, trying to finish up the report but accidently typing in cheese names instead of product names. ‘Damn it,’ he mutters, backspacing rapidly.

‘Okay, okay, don’t get all mad at me. I’ll get the cheese, okay, I have it. There.’

‘Congratulations,’ mutters Stiles sarcastically and then looks up, eyes wide. ‘Hold on, you’re in the cereal aisle now, aren’t you?’

‘Um, yeah, we just entered it, why?’ Derek asks suspiciously.

‘GET OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW,’ Stiles almost screams down the phone. Scott, at the desk next to his, gives him a strange look but he ignores him. ‘Charlotte goes absolutely crazy in that aisle. You must not, under any circumstance, proceed!’

‘Um,’ Derek says weakly, ‘She’s already run off and is piling box after box in her arms?’

‘Shit, you’re fucked,’ Stiles giggles a little hysterically. ‘Good luck trying to get her to put all those back.’

‘Oh no,’ Derek calls out in dismay. ‘What do I do?’

‘Dude, you’ll have to handle this on your own,’ Stiles says as Charlotte’s bright voice comes over the speaker. ‘Daddy, can I buy these, please, daddy, please?’

‘Oh god,’ Derek whispers, ‘She has like twenty boxes.’

‘Just twenty? Lucky you,’ Stiles says jealously.

‘I’m not even going to ask how many she asked for when you took her,’ Derek mutters. ‘Hold on, let me talk to her.’

‘Yeah,’ Stiles murmurs absently, grinning as he listens to Derek pleading with their daughter to please, baby girl, please put some of these back.

‘No, daddy! I love cereal, and I want cereal!’ Charlotte called out plaintively.

‘But, sugarplum, you can’t eat this much cereal, can you now? You’ll explode!’

‘Little girls don’t explode!’

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Charlotte sounds a little doubtful now.

‘Why don’t you get two boxes today and then when you finish them, we can come back and get two more? That way you won’t explode.’

‘I won’t?’

‘Nope.’

There’s a pause in which Stiles looks around the office incredulously. It was that easy? It couldn’t be! He’d faced a ten minute tantrum and a further ten minutes of begging and pleading before Charlotte cut down her choice to five boxes. And here was Derek, making her go down to two boxes in half a minute!

‘Okay, I want this one and this one.’

‘Good girl,’ Stiles can hear the smile in his voice. ‘You there?’ he asks Stiles, smile still in his voice.

‘That was  _unbelievable_ ,’ Stiles breathes out. ‘And so totally not fair.’

‘Hahaha, I guess I win,’ Derek teases.

Stiles twirls a pen in his mouth and hums. ‘Hey Derek, pick up a box of condoms will you?’ he asks in a low voice.

‘Oh?’ and he can practically  _hear_  Derek’s eyebrow rise. ‘Am I all desirable now because I’m such a strong, assertive man who’s proved he’s amazing with children?’

‘Something along those lines,’ Stiles laughs. ‘But it’s mostly because you’re my husband and I haven’t had the pleasure of you up my ass for quite a while now and I miss it,’ he adds cheekily, smiling gleefully to himself when he hears Derek’s sharp intake of breath.

‘See you tonight,’ Stiles says in his best sexy voice and hangs up, chuckling.


	6. gay cats and runaway cats

‘Uh, Stiles?’ Derek calls out in a confused voice. Stiles’ head snaps up from his book and he gulps.  _Damn it, Derek’s found the cats._

‘Yeah?’ he calls back, keeping his voice neutral.

‘Um, why are there five cats in our bedroom?’

‘Oh, those,’ Stiles says.

‘Yeah, these. They’re all over the place. There’s one in our, uh, underwear drawer,’ Derek’s footsteps approach and he stares at Stiles blankly. ‘Am I hallucinating?’

‘Um, no, I can assure you that these cats are very real,’ Stiles says brightly, getting up and putting his book back on the shelf.

‘Yes but why are these five very real cats in our bedroom?’ he asks again, rubbing the back of his head in confusion.

‘Um, I kinda adopted them?’ Stiles cocks his head questioningly.

‘You adopted five cats while I was at work,’ Derek deadpans. One of the cats comes walking down the hallway and rubs against his legs.

‘Uh, yeah,’ Stiles confirms. ‘That one is Mr. Snugglepuss,’ he clears his throat and points at the cat who is now using Derek’s pant leg as a scratching post.

‘Mr. Snugglepuss,’ Derek repeats.

‘Yeah!’ Stiles warms up and bounds over to their bedroom. He emerges with two more cats in his arms. One’s a black and white tuxedo cat and the other is a tabby.

‘This is Ms. Peachybum,’ he says holding up the tabby who blinks sleepily at Derek. Derek blinks back. ‘And this is Mr. Handsome Deputy,’ Stiles continues, touching his nose to the tuxedo’s.

‘Okay,’ Derek replies, standing absolutely still while Mr. Snugglepuss scratches at his leg.

‘And the other two,’ Stiles says, lugging them out too, ‘are Tabitha the Fourth and Jude the Second.’

‘Stiles,’ Derek says.

‘Yeah?’

‘There are five ridiculously named cats in my house, one of which thinks my leg is some sort of scratching post.’

‘Um, yeah.’

‘Why?’

‘Why does he think your leg is a scratching post?’

‘No, why do we have all these weird cats!’ Derek says exasperatedly, ‘and why is Jude the Second trying to mount Mr. Snugglepuss!?’

‘Oh, Jude the Second is gay,’ Stiles shrugs. ‘And I adopted them because they kinda just showed up on at our door with their little sad faces, just begging for a home,’ he adds.

‘We have a gay cat?’

‘Yes!’ Stiles grins widely. ‘Isn’t that cool!’

‘No, Stiles, this is frankly overwhelming,’ Derek says, sinking down on the couch behind him. Jude the Second and Ms. Peachybum hop up to his lap and curl up, purring quietly.

‘Well, I get that but, um, they really have nowhere else to go,’ Stiles says pleadingly. ‘We can keep them, right?’ Derek looks up at Stiles incredulously.

‘Of course not! We can’t keep five cats just like that!’

Stiles droops and settles into his chair sadly, picking up Mr. Handsome Deputy and cuddling him close to his chest.

‘Call Scott, for god’s sake. Your best friend is a vet and he can probably tell us why all these cats just decided to show up at our place,’ Derek tells him.

‘Okay,’ Stiles agrees unwillingly, putting down Mr. Handsome Deputy. He takes his phone from his pocket and dials Scott.

‘Hey, bro,’ he greets and then his face pinches into a confused expression. ‘Uh, what? Hold on, hold on, repeat that,’ he says, his voice rising slightly, probably cutting through whatever panicked tirade Scott was letting out.

‘Dude, dude, don’t worry. I think they all came over to my place,’ Stiles cuts in, brow furrowed. ‘Yeah, yeah, five of them. What? No, really? Okay, okay. Yeah, come by and pick them up, they’re all here,’ and he hangs up grinning.

‘Well?’ Derek asks, gently taking Jude the Second off his crotch and depositing him on the sofa next to him.

‘They’re runaways from the clinic. Apparently some girl brought them in and Scott was too busy staring at Allison or whatever but basically he left them alone for a minute and they all ran off. He’s been looking for them all morning.’

Derek grins in relief but then narrows his eyes at Stiles’ expression. ‘Why are you so happy? I thought you wanted to keep them.’

‘The girl only brought in four, so one of them is truly a stray and homeless. We get to keep that one!’ Stiles says gleefully. Derek’s face falls and he looks around the room at the cats.

‘Wait, which one?’

‘Jude the Second!’

Derek groans and closes his eyes, leaning back against the headrest. ‘I should have known we’d end up with the gay cat,’ he mutters as said cat climbs onto his lap again and resumes sniffing at Derek’s crotch while Stiles doubles over, laughing.


	7. paint swatches and colour theory

‘No, not this one,’ Stiles shakes his head at the swatch that Derek is holding up. It’s a strange orange-peachy color and it reminds him of cat sick. He gags and turns away. Derek replaces the swatch in the catalogue without question and flips over a page.

‘Do we even want orange in here?’ Stiles asks, tilting his head sideways to look at the guest room wall. ‘I mean, this is the guest room, we can go with plain boring colors too.’

‘But then what’s the fun in bringing home the catalogue if you’re just gonna decide on Oatmeal Grey and Hospital White anyway,’ Derek says grumpily, leaning back against the foot of the bed. Stiles punches him in the shoulder playfully.

‘You’re right, let’s do this,’ he flips over a couple of pages until they reach the blues. ‘Hmm, how about this one?’ he pulls out a swatch labelled ‘Butter Blue’.

‘What kind of a name is that?’ Derek frowns. ‘Isn’t butter yellow?’

‘Indeed it is,’ Stiles says gravely, replacing the swatch. ‘But I guess these guys basically just name the colors whatever they feel like.’

‘That’s stupid,’ Derek says.

‘I know,’ Stiles starts to giggle. ‘Look at this one,’ he points at a red swatch that is labelled ‘Jackson’s Undies’ and doubles over laughing. Derek cracks up too and soon they’re both rolling about on the floor.

‘Do you think there’s a Scott’s Puppy Eyes in there?’ Stiles asks, holding his stomach and hiccupping.

‘Or a Lydia’s Hair Flip?’ Derek adds.

‘That would be a really pretty strawberry blonde,’ Stiles clarifies. Derek feels jealousy tug at him.

‘And what would I be?’ the words are out before he knows it and then he’s looking at Stiles apprehensively. Stiles scrunches up his nose and regards Derek carefully.

‘You’d be navy blue and your name would be ‘Ball of Angst’,’ he grins but Derek feels something clam up in him and he shoots Stiles a weak smile.

‘But then I’d be like, a really preppy yellow, almost sickeningly so, and I’d be called ‘Fucking Sunshine’ and we’d meet one day and fall in love and merge into a really beautiful, super awesome green, like forests and mint combined, like your eyes,’ Stiles breathes, reaching forward to lace his fingers with Derek’s.

Derek smiles widely this time and leans towards Stiles, bumping his nose with his.

‘You silly idiot, I love you so much,’ Stiles whispers, tilting his head so he can get at Derek’s mouth.

‘I know,’ Derek murmurs. ‘Let’s get this room done in green.’

‘Okay,’ Stiles grins.


	8. in sickness and in health

‘I’m not sick,’ Derek moans from the bed, sniffling between each word.

‘Right,’ Stiles snorts, glancing at the ever growing pile of tissues next to Derek. He reaches for another and wipes at his red and stuffy nose.

‘I have never been sick in my entire life,’ Derek wheezes.

‘Except for right now, obviously,’ Stiles clarifies, setting down the bowl of soup on the table next to the bed and sinking onto the bed, next to Derek.

‘Why are you sitting so close to me, what if you catch it?’ Derek looks at him with wide eyes and leans away.

‘Oh, so you do admit you’re sick,’ Stiles smirks, reaching for the bowl and stirring the soup slowly. Derek frowns and looks miserable.

‘Derek,’ Stiles says gently. ‘You should eat this up,’ he offers Derek the soup bowl and smiles. ‘I put some herbs in it that will make you feel all better soon,’ he pats Derek’s calf soothingly and watches Derek regard the bowl doubtfully.

‘Seriously,’ Stiles repeats. ‘It’ll make you feel better and I want you all healthy again so we can continue our hot honeymoon sex,’ he winks.

‘Okay,’ Derek gives in, spooning some of the soup into his mouth and closing his eyes. It’s chicken and tarragon soup and it’s his mom’s recipe. Stiles has made it plenty of times before, primarily for his dad whenever he’s sick but also a few times for Scott and once for Melissa.

‘Thanks, Stiles,’ Derek grins weakly and resumes eating. ‘I’m sorry about falling sick on our honeymoon,’ he grimaces but Stiles shakes his head vehemently.

‘What the hell are you apologizing for? ‘In sickness and in health’: it’s right there, in our vows,’ he beams softly at Derek and continues smoothing his hand over his calf.

‘This is really good, by the way,’ Derek says and he sounds better already. His spoon clatters against the edges of the bowl and he hands it back to Stiles, looking much happier.

‘Why don’t you pick out a movie and I’ll put this in the sink and when I come back we can watch it?’ Stiles suggests, handing the DVD case to Derek.

‘Okay,’ he agrees.

*

The sun filters in through the thin curtains and it’s harsh and makes Stiles head hurt.

‘Get up, sleepy head,’ Derek’s voice breaks through his haze, sharp and discordant. ‘I feel so much better today.’

‘Ughh,’ Stiles groans.

‘Oh no,’ Derek’s face falls and he sinks into the bed by Stiles’ side.

‘Oh yes,’ Stiles says, sniffling quietly.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll make you the same soup you made me yesterday.’

‘Thanks babe,’ Stiles whispers, lacing their fingers together. Derek squeezes his and grins down at him.


	9. ice cream and declarations of love

‘Okay, we can stop for ice cream,’ Stiles concedes, resulting in a loud, gleeful sound from the back where Charlotte sat. Derek glances at her and grins.

‘Can I have two scoops, dad?’ Charlotte asks, her voice extremely hopeful.

‘Two scoops, huh?’ Stiles asks.

‘Yes, please, dad,’ Charlotte says.

‘Is our daughter polite or what?’ Stiles whispers to Derek who just grins back at him.

‘Okay, honey, you can chose two flavors and get two scoops,’ Stiles gives in, pulling up next to the ice cream parlor and parking.

‘Yay!’ Charlotte screams in his ear and Stiles grimaces, holding up a hand to his ear. ‘Girl, you gonna make me go deaf one day,’ he grumbles, opening the back door and lifting her out. She wraps her arms around his legs and gives him a quick squeeze before running over to Derek and grabbing his hand.

‘Ok, I am ready, daddies,’ she informs them, looking at the door of the parlor determinedly. Derek shoots Stiles a puzzled glance over her head and Stiles shrugs back. Who knew what their daughter thought getting ice cream involved?

‘I would like to order for myself, please,’ Charlotte pipes up as they enter. Stiles nods and gives her a little push towards the counter. The parlor is more or less empty and she makes her way carefully and stands on her tiptoes to peer at the cashier.

‘I would like a double chocolate chip scoop and a blueberry scoop, please,’ she says to the guy. ‘Hold the cream,’ she adds after a little pause. Stiles raises an eyebrow at Derek and they both burst out in silent laughter.

‘This is how my daddy orders coffee,’ she tells the guy behind the counter, who’s biting his lip in amusement. ‘Can I have a cookie also, please?’ she asks excitedly when she spots a batch lying on the counter.

‘Um, yeah, sure,’ Derek recovers enough to say. Stiles wipes at his eyes and steps forward too, looking at the menu card.

‘And we’ll have a chocolate chip and mango combo and a peach –‘ he starts to order but Derek cuts him off.

‘Uh, no, can I get a banana scoop instead?’ he says. Stiles turns to him with a weird expression.

‘Banana ice cream? Ew!’ he scrunches up his face and Charlotte does the same, echoing her father’s words.

‘It’s actually pretty good,’ Derek says defensively. ‘Erica made me try some and I fell in love,’ he says, reaching for his wallet to pay. Charlotte’s lower lip starts to wobble.

‘I thought you were only in love with dad,’ she says, her tone upset.

‘Oh, no, no, honey. He is in love with me, very much,’ Stiles says soothingly, picking her up and balancing her on his hip.

‘Of course I am,’ Derek repeats, pecking Stiles on the cheek and then nuzzling Charlotte. ‘It’ just that I also very much like banana ice cream.’

‘But not as much as dad, right?’ Charlotte asks, her eyebrows furrowing just like Derek’s. Stiles grins at the familiarity.

‘Never,’ Derek says, pulling them both in for a hug. ‘Now let’s go eat our ice creams!’


	10. slow dancing and accidental proposals

Stiles stops in his tracks and stands absolutely still. In the living room, Derek’s  _dancing_  – the full out, arms everywhere, hips shaking, waist twirling  _dancing_. And in their two year old relationship, Stiles has never seen Derek dance, ever, so this pretty much floors him.  

At first Stiles thinks maybe he’s dancing without any music, but then he realizes there are earphone wires snaking up his body. He follows them to the phone in his pocket and grins. He may not be able to hear what song his adorable as fuck boyfriend is dancing too but damn if that doesn’t mean he can’t join in too.

Biting his lip and shrugging off his hoodie, Stiles steps into the room as well. Derek has his back to him and is shaking his butt so he doesn’t notice Stiles come in at all. So when Stiles pats his shoulder and turns him around, it nearly gives him a heart attack.

‘Jesus, Stiles!’ he shouts, clutching his chest, ripping the earphones out of his ears. Then the fact that he had been caught dancing catches up to him and he turns red and starts to mumble incoherently.

‘Hey, I wanna dance too,’ Stiles pouts as Derek slips out his phone to stop the music.

‘Uh, you do?’ Derek asks, eyes wide.

‘Of course, idiot,’ Stiles says, rolling up his sleeves and stepping back slightly. ‘Come on, put on something.’

‘Um, okay,’ he scrolls down his playlist and smiles as he selects a song, plugging his phone into the stereo. It’s a fast, indie beat and Stiles tugs at Derek’s hand, pulling him closer and flailing about, making Derek giggle.

‘Stiles, you’re even worse than I am,’ he snorts as he demonstrates a perfect hip move. Stile tries it out and lands on his ass, grinning.

‘That sounds about true,’ he admits, grabbing Derek’s offered hand and pulling himself up. They dance about, laughing, for the two minutes it takes for the song to finish. When it does, Stiles bends over, hands on his knees and pants.

‘Whew,’ he says and Derek steps back to stop the music. But before he can reach the phone, the music’s changing to ‘All of Me’ and Stiles looks up with bright eyes.

‘Don’t change it,’ he says, getting up and reaching for Derek.

‘Now, slow dancing,’ he whispers, hooking an arm around his waist, ‘is something I can do pretty well,’ he puts his other hand in Derek’s and pulls it away from their bodies, fingers gently entwined. Derek smiles quietly and kisses him.

They twirl around slowly over the carpet as John Legend sings in the background and pretty soon, Derek’s resting his head on Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles’ is leaning his head against Derek’s, kissing the top of his head.

‘Maybe we should dance to this at our wedding,’ Stiles whispers absently, without thinking. The way Derek stills in his arms though, makes him realize what he’d just said.

‘Uh, I meant Scott’s wedding,’ Stiles backtracks quickly when Derek pulls back to stare at him with a weird expression. ‘I mean, it’s coming up right? We should have our own dance at it,’ Stiles babbles.

‘Stiles,’ Derek cuts in and Stiles looks at him with a ‘I fucked up?’ expression.

‘Don’t you want to get married?’ Derek asks, squishing down an eyebrow and frowning.

‘Um, yes, of course, I do,’ Stiles says. ‘One day,’ he adds.

‘To me?’ Derek asks, still looking at him with that weird, steady expression and Stiles is beginning to feel like this is a very accidental, very weird, very impromptu proposal.

‘Yes,’ he breathes out. ‘You’re the one, obviously I’d want to get married to you.’

‘Good,’ Derek gives him a sudden, blinding smile and starts to twirl him around again.

‘Wait, what?’ Stiles blurts out, confused.

‘What?’ Derek quirks an eyebrow.

‘Um, was this like a proposal, or what?’

Derek pauses as if in thought. ‘Think of it as, a kind of, pre-proposal,’ he finally says.

‘Oh my god,’ Stiles says, ‘Does this mean only you get to propose?’

‘Um, I guess not?’ Derek says, looking confused by Stiles’ line of thought.

‘Good, because I’ve had a great proposal planned for like, ages now,’ Stiles says, shrugging. ‘Oh,’ his eyes widen as Derek starts to laugh.

‘Okay, okay, I’ve kinda maybe known you’re the one since, like, the beginning,’ Stiles admits, blushing a little.

‘You’re adorable,’ Derek says, leaning in for a slow kiss. ‘I knew it too,’ he whispers.

‘God, we’re disgustingly cute, aren’t we?’ Stiles laughs as Derek starts to mouth at his jaw.

‘Maybe we are.’


	11. popcorn and f.r.i.e.n.d.s

Derek doesn’t like movies a lot. He’s more of the book kinda guy. But Stiles? Stiles loves movies. Stiles loves TV shows, infomercials, films, documentaries – basically, put a TV in front of him and he’ll watch anything.

‘DEREK WHERE’S MY POPCORN?’ Stiles shouts from their couch where he’s ready, decked out in his usual sweats and soft cotton shirt, his blanket pulled up over his knees, the remote in his hand.

‘Coming up,’ Derek calls back, grabbing the bowl from the microwave and striding over to him, putting the bowl down on the coffee table and getting under the blanket, moving his arm so Stiles can slide underneath and rest his head against Derek’s chest.

‘What’re we watching today?’ Derek asks, curling his arm around Stiles’ waist and pulling him as close as possible. With the other hand he reaches for the popcorn.

‘F.R.I.E.N.D.S reruns,’ he says brightly, turning on the TV. Derek grins. ‘It’s the fourth? Fifth season where Monica and Chandler are being all secretive about their relationship.’

‘I love that season,’ Derek says.        

‘I know right, it’s my favorite,’ Stiles agrees. ‘Chandler is like, the best.’

‘He is.’

Derek ay not love movies and the general TV thing a lot but, with Stiles, curled up on the couch, his body a warm weight against his, Derek will watch anything. He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head, as the theme song starts to play and all the friends start to dance around.


	12. apple pies and revenge

‘I went last time!’ Derek whines at Stiles. ‘She talked my ear off for an hour while you giggled at me from the kitchen window!’

‘But Derek, I’m kinda busy and she’s being so damn loud I can’t hear myself think,’ Stiles whines back, pulling up an important looking spreadsheet on his computer and types in random numbers.

‘But it’s your turn,’ Derek replies.

‘But I’m busy.’

‘I’m busy too.’

‘You’re just reading the newspaper!’

‘This is not fair,’ Derek starts to give in.

‘But you love me and you’d do anything for me, right?’ Stiles gives him a blinding smile and a wink.

‘You use your charm too much on me,’ Derek grumbles but he’s putting down the paper. Stiles knows all he has to do is push a little bit more and his husband will be all muffled up and out of the door to go talk to the noisy Mrs. Briar next door.

‘Maybe I do,’ Stiles agrees. ‘But the fact still remains, you love me.’

‘Okay,’ Derek says miserably, getting up and sighing loudly. Stiles looks at him and feels very guilty but he really cannot, absolutely cannot stand Mrs. Briar.

‘Wait, I know what we can do,’ he says suddenly, getting up and pulling out his phone.

‘Call me,’ he instructs, pointing at Derek’s phone.

‘Why?’ Derek looks adorably confused but he takes the phone out of his pocket anyway.

‘Keep me on speaker and put the phone in your shirt pocket. I’ll be listening from here and when you’ve had enough, you can say ‘I like birds a lot,’ and I’ll hear and come rescue you,’ Stiles says brightly.

‘I like birds a lot?’ Derek raises an eyebrow.

‘Or whatever,’ Stiles shrugs. ‘We can decide on some other code phrase.’

‘Yeah because how the hell would I be able to work in birds in a conversation with her?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t know! You’re the one who’s talked to her. What does she like?’

‘Um, pies and her grandchildren?’

‘Okay then, you can say, um, ‘My husband makes a fantastic apple pie,’ because I totally do,’ Stiles says, putting the phone to his ear and motioning Derek to put his in his pocket.

‘Okay,’ Derek says a little doubtfully and moves towards the door.

*

The plan totally works except Mrs. Briar asks for the pie recipe and Derek makes Stiles go give it to her in person as revenge.


	13. red undies and pink shirts

Derek stares at his shirts incredulously, mouth open in horror.

‘STILES!?’ he shouts from the basement.

‘What?’ Stiles asks when he appears. Derek holds up his shirt in response and Stiles starts to giggle.

‘Seriously, Stiles, this is why we have separate washes for whites and colors!’

‘I’m sorry,’ Stiles says, still giggling. ‘It must have been those red boxers, right?’ he asks, stepping over to the machine and rooting about in it for his underwear.

‘Yes it was your stupid red boxers’ fault,’ Derek huffs, throwing all the pink shirts in a basket haphazardly. ‘Why can’t you get normal white underwear?’

‘Because that’s boring!’ Stiles exclaims. ‘Plus, you love my red boxers and my batman briefs,’ he winks, wiggling his butt against Derek’s crotch.

Derek glares at him and the offending red underwear. It’s kind of true though. Stiles pale skin and the red boxers is a delicious combination and Derek does love them.

‘What am I going to do about all of these now?’ he mutters, holding up pink shirt after pink shirt, looking upset.

‘Calm down buddy, I think you’ll look hot in pink,’ Stiles smirks, putting one of them up against Derek and regarding him critically.

‘But I do not  _wear_  pink!’ Derek says hysterically.

‘Jesus, Derek, then we’ll get you new shirts!’ Stiles says.

‘I have to go to work tomorrow and I am not wearing a pink shirt,’ Derek declares.

‘Wear your black one, then, it’s very sexy and you haven’t worn it in a long time,’ Stiles suggests, running a hand up Derek’s bicep.

‘Mm,’ Derek thinks, leaning into the touch unconsciously.

‘Okay? And then we can go shopping for new shirts tomorrow and make out in the changing rooms without anyone knowing,’ Stiles whispers, leaning close.

‘Oh, I’m gonna make you scream so loud they’ll definitely know,’ Derek smirks, making Stiles’ breath hitch and his mouth fall open slightly.

‘Oh yeah, baby,’ Derek grins, ‘Revenge.’


	14. post its and i love yous

Stiles was a post-it connoisseur. He had post-its of all colors, shapes and sizes and he would use them copiously, in the office, at home, in the car, pretty much everywhere.

‘Do you, like, steal these or what?’ Derek asks, holding up a stack of round, turquoise notes.

‘Nah,’ Stiles shrugs. ‘I get most of them from the office for free and Scott always gets me some for all the major holidays and birthdays.’

‘Scott gets you post-its for your birthday?’ Derek says unbelievingly.

‘Uh, yeah, along with the main present, that is.’

‘Uh huh,’ Derek nods, looking at his desk, covered with the little pieces of paper. They’re literally everywhere and Derek cannot see an inch of wood. Stiles consults one of them and them balls it up and throws it away, returning to his laptop.

‘Why do you love them so much?’ Derek asks, glancing at some of the notes. They were mostly work-related.

‘I dunno. They’re super easy to use,’ Stiles shrugs, continuing typing.

‘Mmm,’ Derek hums, shifting a few notes to get to the ones beneath. A pale green one catches his eye because it has his name on it.

 _Ask Derek to pick up tuxedo for Scott’s wedding._  Derek smiles. He’d already done that this morning – evidently Stiles used post-its as reminders too now. He thumbs through the others and stops at another one that has his name on it.

 _Derek is a grumpy little cat but I kinda love him anyway :/_ Derek stills, plucking the post-it off the desk and reading it again. Accompanying the words is a small doodle of a grumpy looking person being hugged by a smiling person. There’s a tiny heart above them. Derek swallows.

‘Whatcha got?’ Stiles asks, rolling over in his chair interestedly. ‘Oh, yeah, um,’ he stammers, rubbing a hand across the back of his head because they haven’t said ‘I love you’ to each other yet and now there’s a post-it in Derek’s hand that announces Stiles loves Derek.

‘You love me?’ Derek asks quietly, holding on to the post-it.

‘Uh, yeah, duh,’ Stiles says, scrubbing his face and leaning back in his chair, looking a little defensive. ‘I’ve been wanting to say it for a while now but I was kinda waiting for the perfect time.’

‘I was too,’ Derek whispers to himself, looking down at the note one last time before getting up and leaning over Stiles’ chair. He cups his cheek and leans in for a kiss, pressing their mouths together gently and biting at Stiles’ bottom lip.

‘I love you too,’ Derek murmurs, pulling back. Stiles grins.

‘Yeah but I loved you first,’ he says cheekily, pulling Derek down so that he’s straddling his lap.

‘I love you more,’ Derek raises an eyebrow.

‘Nope.’ Stiles shakes his head. ‘I love you more.’

‘We could argue about that all night or we could take each other’s clothes off right now,’ Derek says.

‘Ah,’ Stiles pauses. ‘Clothes off it is then.’


	15. onions and pain relief

‘Ow, shit, ow,’ Stiles swears, holding his thumb tightly with the other hand and looking at the deep cut he had just managed to make on it. ‘Ow.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Derek comes rushing into the kitchen, eyes red and claws inching out.

‘Calm down, dude, I just cut myself while chopping the onions,’ Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek rushes over, grabbing Stiles’ injured hand and squeezing his eyes close.

‘Hey, what’re you doing?’ Stiles asks, eyes widening as the pain starts to curl out of his finger.

‘Taking away the pain,’ Derek mutters, concentrating so that his veins turned black, running up his arm.

‘But it’s just a cut!’ Stiles exclaims, ‘It doesn’t even hurt that much.’

Derek doesn’t say anything and the pain is slowly being sucked out so Stiles closes his eyes to, letting the wonderful feeling wash over him.

‘There,’ Derek whispers after a while, releasing his hand and leaning back against the kitchen counter. Stiles opens his eyes slowly, blinking. He raises his finger up to his face and stares at the cut that doesn’t hurt at all anymore.

‘It was just a cut, you know,’ he shrugs, going back to his onions.

‘But you were hurt,’ Derek frowns.

‘Not exactly. I’ve cut myself a million times before while chopping vegetables.’

Derek doesn’t say anything, just crosses his arms.

‘I’m not a child, Derek,’ Stiles finally says, gently. ‘I can take care of myself and a little pain is not a bad thing.’

‘I don’t want you to be hurt in any way,’ Derek glares at his feet, speaking gruffly.

‘I’m not, Derek,’ Stiles says earnestly, dropping his knife on the cutting board and coming up to Derek, taking both his hands in his own. ‘I’m so happy. Ever since dad,’ he hesitates. ‘Ever since, you and Scott are the only people I have and you make me so happy and I’m so in love with you. You’d never hurt me, I know it.’

Derek gives a grudging smile and squeezes his hands slightly. ‘I love you a lot too,’ he says shyly because they haven’t said it much yet, it is new on their tongues and in their mouths.

‘I know, you adorable werewolf,’ Stiles grins. ‘Now come help me with dinner,’ he says, stepping away but using Derek’s hands to pull him along.


	16. kisses and time

Stiles loves the early morning kisses, the late night, just before they go to sleep kisses, the ‘please shut up’ kisses. They’re brief but pressing, simple greetings and conversation in one physical act. He loves the kisses that denote something else – the open mouth kiss on the back of his neck, the soft kiss on his cheek balanced out by the delicious scratch of stubble. He waits desperately for the butterfly kisses over his stomach, the hungry nips at his throat and neck, the almost reverent kisses just before they come.

Stiles loves the kiss hello and kiss goodbye, quick but full of promise. He adores the lazy kisses on the patio when they’re cuddling and cannot even be bothered to move their faces more than the inch it requires to press their lips together. He was especially partial to the separate kisses dotting each of his fingertips and then his palm and knuckles.

*

Derek loved the face Stiles made when he kissed him. It was one of utter bliss, complete happiness, as if he was in heaven already, needed nothing more. He loved the soft sounds Stiles made in the back of his throat, loved the way his fingers came up to tangle in his hair and stay there, carding through. He loved Stiles eyes after a kiss – almost liquid and an undefinable color. He loved the way Stiles arched his back when Derek bit down gently on his lower lip and tugged at it.

‘I could die right now and be happy,’ Stiles whispered to him one night, his voice deep and rough but small. Derek reached out to link their fingers together.  _I could do the same,_  he thought to himself, smiling, and was about to tell Stiles when he noticed the other had started snoring softly. Derek grinned and closed his eyes too. There was plenty of time to tell Stiles.


	17. long distance and falling asleep next to your voice

‘I miss you,’ Stiles says into the phone, clutching it tightly. ‘I know you’ve been gone only a day now and you’ll be back soon but I still miss you,’ he whispers. Derek isn’t saying anything but Stiles can hear him breathing softly into the phone. ‘Isn’t that crazy?’

‘No it’s not,’ Derek’s voice sounds deep and hoarse and Stiles tilts his head to the left, looking at his empty pillow. ‘I miss you too, a lot,’ he says. ‘I can’t wait to be back.’

Stiles reaches for the pillow and tugs it towards him. ‘Your pillow smells like you and I thought it would make me feel better but it’s making me feel worse,’ Stiles whispers, breathing in the scent anyway, eyes fluttering shut. ‘Why did you have to go to a stupid conference anyway?’

‘Because the stupid conference is very important,’ Derek sighs.

‘I don’t like it,’ Stiles says stubbornly.

‘Me neither. But think about it, I’ll be back in one more day. Tomorrow night, I’ll be in bed with you, holding you close and kissing you.’

‘I can’t wait,’ Stiles smiles. They fall silent for a while, just breathing in harmony.

‘Is the conference interesting though?’ Stiles asks after a while, pushing the pillow back from his face and taking in a gulp of fresh air.

‘It is, actually,’ Derek admits. ‘I’m learning a lot.’

‘That’s good,’ Stiles says.

‘Mm,’ Derek agrees.

‘I’m very sleepy,’ Stiles says after a beat.

‘Do you want me to hang up so you can go to sleep?’ Derek asks. Stiles hesitates.

‘Could you, maybe, stay on the phone?’ Stiles asks. ‘I know it sounds so childish of me, but I’d love it if you did.’

‘Not childish at all,’ Derek lets out a little laugh. ‘I was going to suggest it myself.’ Stiles grins happily.

‘That’s sweet,’ he says.

‘I know. Now, go to sleep, love. Goodnight,’ Derek murmurs.

‘Night,’ Stiles replies, setting the phone down next to his pillow and closing his eyes.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you, too.’ 


	18. hugs and puny humans

Derek has never been much of a hugger. Even before the fire, he was the only odd one out – who didn’t like to cuddle and hug people. His family would respect his personal boundaries always but Stiles? Ever since he had met Stiles, his personal space had been invaded on an almost daily basis.

The funny thing was, though, he didn’t actually seem to mind it a lot. Stiles was constant touches – a soft pat on the arm after a battle, a rough shoulder squeeze in passing, a hand on his thigh to steady himself when getting up from the couch, shoulders brushing, the backs of their palms grazing each other, the tips of fingers dotting the other’s skin when carrying Cora to the ambulance. He was constant and he was energy and for some strange reason, Derek didn’t seem to mind that.

Maybe Stiles sensed that he wanted more or maybe it happened by accident, but the touches slowly morphed into full blown hugs. Stiles was a great hugger – his arms around you were big and strong and his soft squeeze at the beginning, anchoring them always took Derek’s breath away. He would rest his head on Derek’s shoulder or hook a chin over it, his arms wrapped around his waist. Derek would be stiff at first but then melt slowly into the embrace, bringing his own hands up awkwardly to pat Stiles on the back.

The first time he gave back as strongly as Stiles gave, he nearly swept Stiles off the ground. It was just after they had finished a battle against a bunch of imps and no one was hurt but they could have been and Derek spotted Stiles and their eyes met and Stiles walked over, purposefully, stopping just short of him, a tiny questioning look in his eyes. Derek didn’t think about it, just reached out and wrapped his arms around the younger boy and held him so tightly he squeaked.

‘Derek,’ Stiles said with a gasp. ‘Dude, gently! I’m a puny little human!’

Derek’s response was to pull back and stare at him for a moment before leaning forward and capturing Stiles’ lips in a bruising kiss.

‘ _Whoa,_ ’ Stiles let out a long breath, pulling back after a minute or so because oxygen was an important thing. ‘Okay…’ he trailed off and Derek pulled back, letting go of his shoulders and retreating.

‘Wait, no, no,’ Stiles called out. ‘Don’t leave, idiot, I haven’t finished kissing you properly yet.’

Derek’s eyes gleamed in the dim light and he stepped forward again, letting Stiles jump on him and kiss the breath out of him.


	19. thunderstorms and cuddles

Derek looked up in amusement as Stiles dove into their bed, straight under the covers. He popped up on the other side, grabbed Derek’s arm and squeezed his body between Derek’s body and his arm.

‘I’m not scared okay, I’m just in the mood to cuddle,’ he says defensively but just then a loud thunderclap shakes the very house and Stiles presses closer, squeezing his eyes shut.

‘Mhm, right,’ Derek bites back a laugh as Stiles shivers. A bright bolt of lightning lights up their room, making everything go electric white for hardly a second.

‘It’s true,’ Stiles mutters defensively but moves his head away from the window and lays it over Derek’s chest, right above his heart.

‘It’s okay to be scared of thunderstorms,’ Derek says casually.

‘I’m not scared of thunderstorms!’

‘I used to be.’

Stiles raises his head to stare at Derek with narrowed eyes. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘Why?’

‘It made me think people were fighting and throwing things at each other,’ Derek says, softly carding his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

‘What made you not scared?’ Stiles asks, barely flinching at the next thunderclap.

‘Laura,’ Derek says quietly. ‘She sat with me through one of them and made me see how beautiful it was really. The lovely blue lightning, the thunderclaps that make your very bones vibrate, the soft rush of rain and it’s dusty, wet smell. I love it all so much now,’ he smiles down at Stiles who looks at him for a moment and then turns a little so he’s facing the window. Lightning cuts across the sky a moment later and Stiles watches, his face illuminated.

‘I guess it is kind of beautiful,’ he breathes after everything’s dark again. ‘And the sound of rain is very soothing,’ he lets his head fall back against Derek’s chest.

‘See? I told you,’ Derek says with a smile in his voice.


	20. toothpaste kisses and morning rituals

Derek nearly always wakes up first. His eyes flicker open slowly and he blinks around blearily for a while before he gets his hands on his glasses and pushes them up his nose, squinting in the light. Stiles is nearly always twined around him in some way or the other – even if they’re not in each other’s arms, they’re always touching – sometimes it’s hands linked, sometimes it’s legs tangled, often it’s just Stiles hand, curled over Derek’s torso somewhere.

Stiles is quiet and still in sleep, something that both amuses and fascinates Derek. He sometimes sniffles in his sleep but that’s the extent of it. Derek traces the planes of his chest and stomach with his hand, his touch feather light. His fingers stop at his sternum and he smooths his fingers over the bone. Slowly he rolls closer, trying not to jostle Stiles and presses a small kiss near his ear or on the ball of his shoulder.

That’s when Stiles stirs for the first time, his eyes opening blearily and a smile beginning to form when he realizes where he is. Stiles always starts his day like that – anew and fresh. He gets the thrill of discovering he’s lying in bed with Derek every single day.

‘Hey,’ Derek whispers, kissing Stiles properly even though he has morning breath. Stiles pushes him away laughing and tells him he can kiss him after he’s brushed his teeth.

‘I want to kiss you now,’ Derek pouts and Stiles rolls away, grabbing his shirt from off the floor and putting it on. He stands up and throws a smile at Derek over his shoulder.

‘After I brush my teeth, okay?’ he says, padding away. Derek smiles sleepily after him and gives in.


End file.
